


Endgame

by artemisia_HQ



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A much needed balm in the wake of the manga ending, Drinking, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Party, Pining, Post-Canon, Set after the Black Jackals vs Schweiden Adlers match, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisia_HQ/pseuds/artemisia_HQ
Summary: It's all these chaotic cacophonies and unfamiliar party ambiance that's making Tobio weird, messing up with his mind and emotions, resurfacing feelings that should have been buried down to the deepest abyss of nothingness where no one can see or notice them, not even Tobio.Because it's a mistake, an aberrant error for Tobio to let Hinata still affect him after all this time.Kageyama thought he's already abandoned all the unwanted feelings he had for his greatest rival and best friend, but he's proven wrong when just one look at Hinata has them all bubbling up to the surface, and he thinks, this time, he might not be able to suppress them.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 56
Kudos: 783
Collections: Haikyuu Fanfiction Archive





	Endgame

**Author's Note:**

> HQ MANGA HAS ENDED AND IT TASTES BITTERSWEET ಥ_ಥ It's been a great, amazing ride, but all good things always come to an end at some point. I'm just so grateful to Furudate-sensei for gifting us this absolute masterpiece, a legacy that has carved its own mark, and it will always have a special place in my heart because as dramatic as it sounds, this series turned my world upside down, shaken it up, and it's not an exaggeration to say that it changed my life.
> 
> So here I am pouring all the love I have for this manga, specifically for two dumbasses.
> 
> Thank you, Haikyuu. Thank you, Haruichi Furudate.
> 
> ***
> 
> I made a short playlist on spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/plg5ymvqx363hqsy39a45w9sv/playlist/7INO84ydqnn9XpFFhbKSW3?si=f2O_pwh_Tn-vBn2n4Ba6yQ)

  
Over the roar of music and hazy chatters, shrill laughter rings in Tobio’s ears, a sound he hasn’t heard in a while but still so very familiar, still has the same delighted ring to it, still so mirthful and carefree that if happiness can be represented with a sound, that would be it.

And still makes Tobio’s heart helplessly— _annoyingly_ —stutter inside his chest.

His gaze draws to the source of the sound, and he’s once again reminded that it’s not the laugh, but the person it belongs to that’s the cause of this malfunction in Tobio’s physiology.

Hinata is standing on top of a table, singing some catchy pop music at the top of his lungs. Bokuto-san joins him, and now they’re adding weird, uncoordinated dance steps in their song that involves a lot of hip wiggling. Tobio tries not to stare too much as Hinata sways his hips this way and that, and it’s nowhere near sexy at all, _nope_ , it only makes him look like an utter dumbass, a stupid, _tipsy_ dumbass, and Tobio clicks his tongue and peels his eyes away.

It’s all these chaotic cacophonies and unfamiliar party ambiance that’s making Tobio weird, messing up with his mind and emotions, resurfacing feelings that should have been buried down to the deepest abyss of nothingness where no one can see or notice them, not even Tobio.

Because it’s a mistake, an aberrant error for Tobio to let Hinata still affect him after all this time.

“Hey, Kageyama-kun! I challenge you to a singing contest!” Hinata shouts on the microphone, a finger pointing straight at Tobio, that glint of challenge in his eyes unmistakable.

Tobio sneers. “Dumbass.” He empties the rest of his drink. “You’re on.”

Or maybe he just missed his best friend more than he likes to admit, and although they’ve been keeping in touch, he missed bickering and having dumb contests with Hinata in person, and that’s the only reason why he lets himself be roped in this ridiculous duet, and he can’t be complacent with the measly four-point lead he has in their longstanding competition, can he?

The karaoke party rages on, and it’s actually nice catching up with the guys from Karasuno, and the other players from the Black Jackals, and everyone is just too absorbed in the moment, still in rip-roaring adrenaline high from the recently concluded match. Tobio doesn’t have a single iota of a clue as to what makes a party wild, but this must be close to it, with all the high-volume, fast-paced music deafening his ears mixed with hollering and chants and cackles of laughter, and the endless overflow of food and drinks.

Tobio sticks to soda, though, and his eyes twitch, fingers fidgeting, as he watches Hinata take a swig on his third bottle of beer, not that Tobio is keeping count. Hinata’s cheeks glow with a rosy hue, all the way up to the tips of his ears and the back of his neck like his hair has leached its color to his skin. He’s being extra loud, too, all giggly and smiley, and that’s saying something considering it’s Hinata in all his... _Hinata-ness_.

“You’ve been eyeing my spiker all night long, Tobio-kun.”

Tobio’s eyes abruptly slide away from Hinata to regard the owner of that liquidy, haughty voice.

“I’m not,” he says.

Atsumu-san grins slyly. “You’re not exactly good at being subtle.” He takes a sip on his beer bottle and smacks his lips. “Only a blind man wouldn’t notice how you’ve been glaring laser beams at Shouyou-kun.”

“I’m not,” Tobio insists. “He’s just… he’s drinking too much.” And it’s true; Hinata drinking this much is a tad bit concerning. Tobio has never known him to be a drinker, a trait he supposedly shares with Tobio, but that seems to be not the case anymore. Maybe his time in Brazil has to do with it, making him wilder. Tobio doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just...different.

“Maybe you ought to have an actual drink,” Atsumu-san says, gesturing at the soda in Tobio’s hand.

“I’m good.”

Atsumu-san shakes his head mockingly and throws his arms around Tobio’s shoulders. “Tsk, tsk. Loosen up a bit! Take a swig or two and maybe then you’ll finally grow a pair to confess your undying love to a certain sprightly orange head.”

Tobio spits out the soda in his mouth back to the can. “Undying lo—what?!” he chokes out and briskly extricates himself from Atsumu-san, who’s grinning devilishly at him.

“Aww come on, Tobio-kun. As I said, you’re shit at hiding it and everyone knows you’ve got the hots for Shouyou-kun.”

“I don’t have...the _hots_ for Hinata,” Tobio mumbles as he wipes his nose and mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the literal _hots_ burning his face.

“Sure. I mean, I don’t blame you, though. Shouyou-kun isn’t the same shrimpy kid from high school.” The other setter tips his head at Hinata’s direction and winks. “But I suppose you like him more than that.”

Before Tobio can gather any sort of reply, Atsumu-san downs the rest of his drink and claps Tobio in the back.

“Get your shit together, alright, Tobio-kun?” And with that he walks off to get another bottle, leaving Tobio confused and, admittedly, a little bit annoyed.

The only shit that needs any sort of gathering is the drunkard mess that is Hinata right now, and even more pressing is that no one seems to be bothered by this, even cheering him on when he starts dancing again, holding yet another fresh bottle in his hand.

Tobio supposes he shouldn’t be, too—it is a party, after all, and he eyes a bottle of beer on the table, and before he wusses out completely, he puts down his soda and picks up the alcoholic drink.

He stares down at the amber liquid with mild distrust, it’s malty aroma wafting strongly, making Tobio’s nose wrinkle. He brings the bottle to his lips and takes one tentative sip. _Ack_. He takes another one, and that decidedly concludes his short term relationship with beer and he picks up his precious carbonated drink again.

By the end of the night, Tobio is the only one remaining sober, and he’s feeling quite smug about it, too, especially seeing the dissipated, alcohol-soaked state of his friends. But that little proud moment gets derailed off track when a very heavy, barely conscious _dumbass_ is shoved in his arms.

“Take him home with you, ‘kay? Kageyama? Your apartment is close by, right? You don’t mind, right? He’s too drunk to ride a bus and we’re off to a bar for an after-party party,” Bokuto-san fires in rapid succession, not giving room for Tobio to respond, much less understand what the _hell_ is even happening right now.

“Uhh…”

“Good! Take care of him, ‘kay? Bye!”

“No funny business, alright?”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t listen to him, Tobio-kun. Do all the businesses you want!”

“You have a business, Kageyamuuuuuh~?”

“Shut up, dumb—Oi! Don’t sleep on the sidewalk!”

“Good night, you two!”

“Hey. Wait! You can’t—”

Tobio’s desperate protests all fall on deaf ears and in between trying to drag Hinata off the asphalt and keeping himself from joining Hinata in a heap on the ground— _damn_ , this dumbass is _heavy_ —all he can do is watch forlornly on the retreating figures of their companions and now he’s left to babysit a wasted moron.

“Dumbass, get up, or I’ll leave you here,” Tobio threatens as he pulls Hinata up from where he’s slumped on a pole.

“You wouldn’t,” Hinata mumbles, his head lolling forward and back. Then he grins toothily up at Tobio. “You won’t because we’re _fweeeeeeends~_ ”

Tobio sighs. “You have to help me here, Hinata.”

“Okay, okay. Helping.” Hinata stands—or tries to. His legs wobble and Tobio has to grip at his jacket to keep him from face-planting on the cement.

“Dumbass,” Tobio chides. “Why did you drink so much?”

Hinata just laughs giddily at Tobio’s face, breath reeking harshly of alcohol, and that should be a total turn off, but Tobio’s moronic, traitorous heart says otherwise.

Two hands cling tight on Tobio’s arm as they begin to walk in the direction of his apartment. It’s not that far, just a few blocks ahead, but with all the swaying and fumbling, and Hinata chasing after every stray cat they pass on the road, it feels like they’ve traversed all the way to Tokyo and back before they finally, _finally_ reach Tobio’s unit.

There’s a little struggle to unlock his door because Hinata is latching onto Tobio like a leach, and he tries not to get distracted by Hinata’s warm breath over his neck, or the way he’s practically hugging him, thighs and legs unintentionally rubbing Tobio in places that should _not_ be rubbed, especially by vulnerable, unsuspecting idiots.

Once inside, Hinata collapses face down on Tobio’s couch with an exhausted sigh and shortly begins to doze off.

“Oi, get your jacket and shoes off first,” Tobio says, nudging Hinata’s shoulders with his knees. “Dumbass, get up.”

A whiny, muffled groan answers him, but Hinata pulls himself up reluctantly, and Tobio helps him shrug his jacket off. He waves off any trespassing thoughts surrounding the fact that he’s undressing Hinata in his apartment, but the close proximity and Hinata's crazed, drunken giggles aren't helping.

"Yamayama-kun is too nice," Hinata slurs, flashing him a ditzy smile, cheeks tinged pink, hair wildly mussed. Tobio looks away.

"Shut up," he mumbles, and instead reaches down to tug off Hinata's sneakers. Hinata flops back down again when Tobio is done.

"I'll get some water," Tobio says. He doesn't wait for any response and he enters his kitchen, reaches for his milk, drinks directly from the carton, and bumps his head repeatedly on the refrigerator door.

What. The. Fuck. Seriously— _what the fuck?!_ This kind of situation is bad, really, _really_ bad, and the tightly-bound feelings that have been unraveling since the party—hell, since the very moment he saw Hinata in the bathrooms—are clawing its way out like some hungry, rabid demon.

Tobio sucks in a sharp inhale and slowly releases it through his mouth. He just has to go through this, and it's not like he could just abandon Hinata, drunk and helpless out on the streets. Friends help each other out, and that's what he needs to be right now, what Hinata needs him to be.

With a quick search on the internet, he assembles a sobering-up fix for Hinata that's available in his inventory: a cup of coffee and a pitcher of cold water. Not much, but that would just have to do. Flushing out the alcohol helps to supposedly ‘ _un-drunk_ ’ a person, he reads in an article, and fluid intake apparently helps hasten the whole peeing process.

Tobio brings his set of remedies back to the snoring heap on his couch.

“Dumbass, wake up,” Tobio orders, but only a snort and an incoherent mumble answer him. He crouches down and pinches the other man on the cheek, and with a petulant grumble, Hinata sits up.

“M’head hurts,” he murmurs, bloodshot brown eyes blinking and glazing around the room before landing back at Tobio. He grins, then his hand comes up to rest Tobio’s cheek.

“ _Kageeeeyamaaaaa_ ,” he purrs, face closing in. His eyes lid, gossamer lashes fluttering. A pink tongue darts out to swipe across his chapped lips.

“W-what?” Tobio can’t hear himself over the thunderous pounding inside his chest.

Hinata grins even wider, then his warm hand resting on Tobio’s cheek falters, his head lolling and dropping on Tobio’s shoulder, making Tobio flinch.

“M’head hurts,” Hinata murmurs on the crook of Tobio’s neck.

Tobio sighs. As gentle as he can, he unlatches Hinata from his neck and pushes him back to lean on the couch. “Here, drink this.” He hands him the coffee and helps him drink it, his notably larger hands curling over Hinata’s smaller ones. Hinata doesn’t fuss too much when Tobio urges him to finish the caffeine; either it’s his groggy state making him pliant or he does want to sober up.

“Drink more water. Then take a cold shower. I’ll lend you some clothes,” Tobio says, and Hinata nods dazedly, gingerly taking the glass of water Tobio hands him.

After three more glasses of water, he's scurrying to the bathroom.

When he comes back, he looks relatively less inebriated, more alert after his shower, though there’s still that fuzzy, nebulous look and the slight lack of finesse and coordination in his movements as he saunters in the living room. Tobio’s clothes hang loosely over him even with all the bulk he’s put on, and he still has to roll the sleeves up his elbows and the sweatpants’ hem up his ankles.

It greatly reminds Tobio of all those sleepovers back in high school, of nights burnt through watching volleyball videos, or movies, or more volleyball conversations, and along with those fond memories comes rushing back the feelings he tries to keep shut, and he forces them back to their cage, back to where they belong—alone and hopefully, forgotten.

He never had much luck with that, but what else can he do?

“I’m never going to drink again,” Hinata grumbles, plopping down on the couch across from Tobio.

“You okay now?”

He’s silent for a moment, actually considering the question. “Better,” he decides. “I peed so much.”

Tobio’s face contorts into disgust. “Gross.”

“It had a weird color—”

“Stop talking.”

“—and smelled weird, too.”

Tobio hurls a pillow at the disgusting shit and Hinata flimsy deflects it with his hand, laughing. It lands on the carpet by his feet and he picks it up, wrapping his arms around it, chin resting over the cushion as he peers around Tobio’s apartment again.

“Huh. I guess it’s kind of expected for you to be living in such a simple, bare apartment,” he muses, eyes still wandering.

“What do you mean?”

Hinata shrugs, gesturing a wave at Tobio. “Well, you’re an Olympian athlete. You have endorsements and stuff. I figured you’d have some nice, posh suite.”

Tobio frowns, confused. “Why do I need some fancy apartment suite?”

A snort and then, “Yeah. I knew you’d say that.” A small smile peeks from behind the linen around his arms. “I like it, though. It’s so you.”

Tobio’s gaze fixes on those amber eyes, ignoring the prickle of heat amassing on the tips of his ears. “You’re still drunk, aren’t you.”

The tiny smile stretches into an impish grin. “Just tipsy.”

“You should get some sleep.” 

“Nah.” Hinata pulls his legs up, crossing them. He abandons hugging the pillow to clasp his ankles instead, leaning forward. “We haven't had time to catch up since I came back. How are you? You eating well? Of course, you are. Is the Adlers’ training center big? I bet it is. I watched your Power Curry commercial, by the way. You looked so dumb in it!”

“I’m good,” Tobio answers plainly, since Hinata basically answered his own questions. Except for the looking dumb one. He shifts in his seat, finding a more comfortable position and finally deciding to mirror Hinata’s position, his knees hanging awkwardly off his chair. “How about you?”

That launches Hinata into a babbling spree, and to no one’s surprise, drunk Hinata is as talkative and intrusive as normal Hinata, but weirdly enough, it offers Tobio an odd rushing sense of relief. He’s still the same annoying little shit, but there’s this new air of confidence around him now, yet ironically, still gets way too enthusiastic at the most random things, eyes sparkling in childish delight, cheeks flushing even more as he rambles on.

Still makes Tobio’s chest tighten at the sight of him.

“Brazilians are really friendly, too, and almost everyone knows how to play volleyball. Well, at least on the beach I frequent in,” Hinata says, his voice becoming clearer and less slurry, though there’s still that rasp in it. He goes on. “I met a lot of different people, and you know, there were times when I—”

There's a very long pause, and Hinata isn’t making eye contact; he suddenly finds something very interesting on the carpet, teeth worrying over his lower lip. Tobio’s brow wrinkles.

“You what?”

“There were times when I got curious,” Hinata mumbles.

He… still has no idea what Hinata is talking about. “Curious?”

The other man throws his hands up. “ _Ugh_! Curious about, you know, what’s it like to go on a date! Be with someone!”

Oh.

“Oh.” Something sharp pokes in Tobio’s chest. He ignores it. “So why didn’t you?”

“Why do you think?”

“Volleyball,” Tobio answers instinctively.

“Yeah, there’s that. Obviously. But there’s also—” Hinata halts, then he chuckles dryly. “I mean, I just don’t want to disappoint and every time I imagine myself be with someone else, I feel like I’m betraying, even though...it’s stupid. It’s just so stupid.”

That doesn’t clarify anything at all, but something snags in Tobio’s mind at Hinata’s whole rant. “Someone… else?”

Hinata still refuses to meet Tobio’s eyes, face blossoming crimson. He slumps on the couch. “Yeah...like I said, it’s stupid,” he murmurs. “It’s not that I’m expecting anything to change when I come back, because why would it, right? I just...really...miss them…”

Amber eyes snap back to Tobio, no longer hazy and spaced-out. There’s a sudden sharpness in them, a lightning bolt intensity that seems to pierce right through Tobio, unearthing things that are best kept undiscovered, unwrapping stupid, irrelevant concepts like hope and expectations.

So Tobio does what he always does. He looks away.

Seconds of long, awkward silence tick by, until Hinata breaks it with a short, mirthless laugh.

“Yeah. Just as I thought. Stupid,” he whispers, as if he doesn’t really mean to say them out loud. There’s something else in them, too, something that Tobio can’t exactly pinpoint.

He returns his gaze back at his friend, only to find Hinata still looking at him.

“So, what’s been going on with you? Aside from shooting dumb commercials, of course,” Hinata teases with a smile, the same dumb, wide one he puts on when he thinks he’s being funny, especially at Tobio’s expense.

“Nothing much. Same old, same old. Training, playing volleyball,” Tobio answers nonchalantly. Hinata urges him on with an enthused nod.

“I still wake up early to jog, but I guess I can’t do that tomorrow since, well, it’s already late, and with you crashing here, I can’t really get some sleep. So that’s ruined.”

It only takes one look at Hinata and a millisecond for Tobio to realize that he just said something completely, utterly _stupid_. Even the word stupid seems like an understatement at how horrifyingly _idiotic_ the dumpster fire that just came out of his mouth.

“Wait, that’s not—” he starts but Hinata is already picking up his discarded jacket on the couch’s armrest.

“I’m sorry for messing up your schedule,” he says, but there’s no malice in it; only resignation and that is even worse. Hinata bends down to put on his sneakers and his now dry hair hangs over his eyes, obscuring his face, his words almost as indiscernible. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to impose.”

“Hinata, that’s...that’s not what I mean—” Tobio pleads.

“I know. I know you don’t.” He straightens up, standing, and Tobio jumps from his seat. He steps forward but Hinata backs away, going around the couch.

“It’s okay, really,” Hinata says, a small smile tugging his lips, meant to provide reassurance, but it does the complete opposite, and every step Hinata takes to distance himself away from Tobio is another stab in Tobio’s mangled chest. “I’m just gonna leave. Thanks for… taking care of me, and again, I’m sorry.”

Tobio takes one long stride and grabs Hinata by his wrist. “No, no, wait. How will you even go home? You’re drunk, and there are no buses at this hour and—”

 _And I’m worried about you._ But even in this situation, those words remain stubbornly stuck in his throat, still so fucking _prideful_ to say them out loud.

“I’m not that drunk. And I’ll find a way,” Hinata says, unusually calm, and he gently pries off Tobio’s hold on his wrist. The most annoying thing is that Tobio lets him. “Thanks again, Kageyama, and I’m really sorry for the trouble.”

“No, wait. Hinata—”

Only the echo of the door closing in Tobio’s bare, cheerless apartment answers him.

He clenches his fist, blunt nails forming crescents on the palms of his hand. He wants to overwhelm the pain ripping in his chest, but it’s just too much. Everything is suddenly _too much_ : his frustrations, his doubts.

His feelings.

And he’s so done with running away from them, of letting them slip through his fingers. He’s tired of having to constantly hold himself back when holding back has never been an issue with him, especially with the one person who always propels him forward.

He’s never been more terrified of anything in his life, but at the same time, he’s never been more sure. It’s time to face his demons, and his happens to have wild, orange hair, large, expressive eyes, and a radiant smile that rivals the sun.

Who is staring up at Tobio when he opens the door, tiny hand positioned in a knock, and Tobio nearly crashes at him in his haste.

They stare unblinking at each other for a moment, and then,

“Hinata—”

“Kageyama, I—”

“Me first,” Tobio interjects.

“No!” Hinata shrieks and Tobio reflexively smacks a hand in his mouth.

“ _You're gonna wake the entire building!_ ” he hisses, then slowly removes his palm from Hinata’s face.

“Sorry,” Hinata says in a much more acceptable volume. Then he starts squirming, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. “I just—uhm—I forgot something.”

Tobio blinks. “Oh.” The burst of confidence he possessed just seconds ago is quickly tapering off, but he squares his shoulders. “I can get it for you, but I have to say something first.”

Hinata shakes his head quickly. “No. No. It’s—it’s right here.”

“What are you—”

“I miss you,” Hinata blurts out, red-rimmed eyes—had he been crying?—wide and misty as he looks up at Tobio. “I—I miss you. I miss you _so_ much, you stupid, dumb, jerk! I was talking about _you_! But you are such an oblivious _dumbass_ and you don't care and you're so _stupid_ but I'm even _more_ stupid because I still...I still—”

Words are overrated, Tobio has decided in that split second, and he’s always been a man of action, so _fuck_ words, and instead, he pulls Hinata back inside his apartment.

The very second the door closes, Tobio holds his warm, rosy cheeks between his palms, and lets his lips do all the work in a way that is beyond words.

All the breath in Tobio’s lungs are nearly knocked out when he slams his mouth to Hinata’s, but it’s less of the abruptness of his action but more of the overwhelming surge of relief coursing through his veins, warming him, reminding him of all the hundred, thousand times he’s wanted to do this, and the knowledge that he is actually doing it, _finally_ , is enough to drown him.

Hinata whines out a muffled sound of surprise at Tobio’s sudden assault, understandably so, but then his arms reach out and tangle around Tobio’s neck, pushing eagerly back, _kissing_ Tobio back, and he’s pressing his tongue on the seam of Tobio’s lips, making Tobio gasp. Hinata takes advantage of that as he quickly delves inside Tobio’s mouth, like he’s been dying to do it, and Tobio makes an undignified, whining noise he didn’t know he could make.

And that’s no good—there is absolutely _no way_ Tobio is losing to Hinata twice in a row today—so he tilts Hinata’s head up, angling it better, as he meets the warm slickness of his tongue entwining with his with the same ardency, pushing Hinata further back inside his apartment. He lets muscle memory overtake him, which is kind of hard when his every sense is lost on the strong taste of beer in Hinata’s mouth intermingling in their billowing breaths, as he guides Hinata to his bedroom as best as he can. He doesn’t even notice that they’ve been shredding clothes as they go; first Hinata’s jacket, then Tobio’s hoodie, and before they both know it, Hinata is plopped down on his bed as he hovers over him, both of them shirtless, down only in their underwear.

Tobio’s breath is coming deep and shallow, and he notes that Hinata is, too, but he’s not looking anywhere near Tobio’s face; he’s taken quite a fascination on Tobio’s torso, staring intently in helpless wonder, an almost dreamy, faraway gaze, as his small, calloused hands start to roam, tracing over Tobio’s chest and abdomen.

“Wow,” Hinata breathes, almost in reverence. “Kageyama, you’re amazing.”

Something short-circuits in Tobio’s head. “S-shut up…” he chokes and Hinata giggles deliriously and that tips Tobio off.

“You’re drunk.”

“Hmm,” Hinata hums, his hands now running up and down Tobio’s arm. He blinks in contemplation. “Yeah, I sort-of am.”

“Then, you don’t really—”

Hinata grips his bicep to drag him further down and he crashes on Hinata’s solid chest with a muffled ‘ _mmpf!_ ’

The drastic change in Hinata’s physique has been notable, but with Tobio literally up close and personal with it makes him highly aware just how much, and he can't help but cater himself for some...admiring of his own, face nuzzling, palms grazing the toned chest. He can hear the rhythmic, thudding beats of Hinata’s heart, and it’s racing, much like Tobio’s own.

Hesitantly, Tobio lifts his face to look up at the man beneath him, and he sucks in a sharp inhale at the swirl of emotions he sees in those amber eyes, and out of all the hundred different emotions those eyes are capable of, this is the first time Tobio has seen anything like this.

“Kageyama,” Hinata whispers, and he’s never heard Hinata say his name like this, either. “My head may be kind of _bleeeh_ right now, but my heart is going all _whoosh_ and _guwaaaah_. Like it always does around you. Well, maybe ten times more _guwaaah_ now that we’re doing this.”

“So, you actually want this?” Tobio probes, even as he leans closer until their foreheads are touching. Hinata closes his eyes and gives the smallest nod.

“I do. And more than that—” His eyes flutter open just as his hand curls at the back of Tobio’s head, then whispers, “I want you.”

Tobio has no idea who moves first. Frankly, he doesn’t care, not when kissing Hinata feels almost as good as the thrill he gets when setting up the perfect toss—it’s _that_ good, no matter how sloppy and messy it actually is (the kiss, not his setting). Hinata is so warm under him, that despite the hard muscles and bulk, there’s softness in him, his lips even more so, caressing Tobio’s lips like velvet. The slight taste of beer seeps in with every push of Hinata’s tongue in Tobio’s mouth, and it tastes so sweet, nothing like his very brief and bitter encounter with the alcoholic drink. It’s a heady, mind-numbing taste, paralyzing enough to lose himself in, to lose control, and that train of thought brings him back to the realm of doubt, and he pulls away hesitantly, even though every fiber in him tells him ' _don’t_.'

“What’s wrong?” Hinata asks breathlessly, tiny bows furrowing, pouting, and the red, glossy sheen on his lips are tempting Tobio to capture them again.

“Are you sure it’s not the beer?” he insists, searching any glimpse of truth in those honey eyes.

Hinata sighs. His palms reach up to hold Tobio’s face in place, squeezing his cheeks together, and leans in to place a soft, chaste kiss on Tobio’s lips before answering.

“I’m drunk, yeah. But the beer isn’t making me do this. I want this for a long, _long_ time, Kageyama. So, yes, I’m sure this isn’t just some alcohol-induced impulse.” Then his hold on Tobio’s face slackens. “Unless…unless for you it is…”

Tobio balks and he sits up. “What?! I didn’t even drink!”

“Maybe you’re just taking advantage of the situation because _I_ am drunk!” Hinata shouts in Tobio’s face as he bolts upright.

“What the fuck? What do you take me for?!”

Hinata huffs. “I don’t know. You’re the Olympian athlete. You have, like, an _army_ of fans, maybe you do this kind of thing every Tuesday.”

“How can you—I didn’t even have the balls to tell you how I feel back in high school and now you’re asking me if I go around making out with just anyone?”

“You—what? _High school?!_ ” Hinata shrieks and Tobio averts his gaze, scowling down on the space between their knees, and the bed groans and the sheets shift when Hinata inches closer.

“Kageyama, what did you mean about high school?”

“Shouldn’t that be obvious by now?” Tobio grumbles.

“No, it isn’t.” Hinata shuffles, resting his hand over Tobio’s curled fist gripping the bedsheet. “Tell me. Please.”

Tobio exhales a shaky breath. “You—I—to you—I’m—”

“Are you having a stroke?”

“I’ve been in love with you this whole time. There, happy?” Tobio blurts out and his face burns with so much heat, and it scorches like a furnace when Hinata chuckles. He’s right at Tobio’s face now, practically straddling his lap, and he does exactly that while grinning like a maniac. Tobio tries not to wheeze as Hinata’s weight settles on him.

“I am,” Hinata whispers, nuzzling his head on Tobio’s shoulders. “So, _so_ happy.” Then, he pulls back and pouts. “Wait. You mean to tell me that we could’ve been doing this back in high school?!”

Tobio blinks. “This?”

“This,” Hinata says, smiling, even as he kisses Tobio, again and again and again, arms wind around Tobio’s neck, holding to him desperately, and Tobio clings just as desperate, one hand tangling in Hinata’s hair, the other wrapped around his torso, pressing him closer against him, afraid to let go for just a single second.

With their lips still entangled, Tobio angles forward, slowly pushing Hinata to lay back on his bed, and Hinata follows obediently, so relaxed and yielding in Tobio’s hold. They part with a shared gasp, breaths heavy and shallow, taking a moment to fill their lungs with air.

“I want this. I want you. And you and I both know I can’t lie,” Hinata iterates, hands coming up to brush away the strands of hair falling over Tobio’s eyes, and Tobio doesn’t know why that seemingly simple action makes him feel like screaming. Maybe because this is the first time someone does something so unbearably fond to him. Hell, everything that happened from the last fifteen minutes or so is a new experience. He’s never been like this with anyone, ever. Unlike Hinata, he’s never been curious about dating or being with someone to this extent, and any sort of semblance akin to what’s happening before now are from fantasies and dreams in the confines of his head. And the star of those personal shows has always been the same.

Now it’s real and tangible and, truthfully, a little all too consuming, as if it’s the world’s greatest wonder and he’s unable to fully wrap his mind around it, but—

“I believe you. I just can’t believe that this is actually happening,” Tobio answers truthfully. After that initial outburst of feelings, being honest about them is becoming easier.

And that also makes room for Hinata to tease him, the cheeky little shit.

He smirks up at Tobio, tiny brows wiggling. “Is this what you’ve been wanting since high school?”

“Shut up.”

Hinata laughs, his body convulsing under Tobio. His laughter sounds even better up close. Tobio wants to taste it, too, and he catches Hinata’s parted mouth into a deep kiss, and the delighted sounds dissolve into needy moans. He wants to draw out more of Hinata’s noises, to taste every tone and timber, so he kisses him more urgently, more frantically, and he wants to feel more of him, too, just _more_ _Hinata_ , and experimentally drives his hips down.

He can feel the way Hinata arches up against him, can feel _exactly_ the effect this has on him—on _both_ of them, if he’s being honest—and the sweet friction when Hinata’s hardness within his boxers presses on Tobio’s own coaxes out a low, rumbling groan from his throat. Hinata moans back, this lilting, almost desperate noise that sends ripples of electricity down Tobio’s spine.

Almost like instinct, they drift into this uncoordinated and clumsy movement of hips thrusting downward and up. Beads of sweat roll between them, slick and hot and messy, and Tobio's blood burns and dances beneath his skin, heating him from the inside and concentrating mostly on his lower half.

He’s straining in his boxers, and he’s pretty sure he’s leaked in them, too, and that should’ve been embarrassing as hell, but Hinata is in the exact same state, judging by the damp bulge bumping against him. That only makes Tobio greedy, so he rolls his hips even harder, his mouth latching on Hinata’s sweaty neck, smattering it with kisses and soft nips. Hinata’s whines rise in pitch with every graze of Tobio's teeth.

“I-if this feels too fast for you, we can stop,” Tobio murmurs against wet skin, but his words defies his actions as he continues his ministrations. He lightly sucks on the strong curve of Hinata’s shoulders, hips still bucking and pressing on Hinata’s swelling erection, feeling the heat intensify with each thrust.

“Is that— _ah_ —really you, Kageyama?” Hinata teases, still capable of being an obnoxious shit even though he sounds like he’s having a hard time breathing. “Since when do you stop us from going too fast?”

“Dumbass. This is different,” Tobio chides. He doesn’t really know why he’s pressing this when his body is constantly betraying him.

“It’s fine. We have to make up for all the times we could have done it,” Hinata says in brutal honesty and wraps his arms and legs even tighter around Tobio. “And I keep saying this—” Hinata cants his hips up roughly, ripping a raspy groan from Tobio’s throat. “I want you.”

Something warm bursts in Tobio’s chest and it travels further down, uncoiling in the pit of his stomach, an amalgam of want and need and fondness. “O-okay,” he stutters helplessly. “Okay.”

Hinata chuckles. “You good now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Hinata says and now there’s a pair of grabby hands tugging on Tobio’s boxers. “Can I?”

Tobio gulps. “Only if you take yours off, too.”

“Well, Kageyama-kun, my hands are pretty occupied,” Hinata points out, fingers fiddling with the hem of Tobio’s boxers. “You do it.”

Okay. _Shit_. This is happening. And it’s happening fast, his body moving quicker than his brain can process things, and now they’re wiggling and fidgeting, hands everywhere as they try to rid each other of their remaining articles of clothing, tossing them out of the way.

If Tobio feels hot before, it’s incomparable to the _scalding_ heat of the combined warmth of their naked bodies, sliding and fitting so perfectly it’s unreal, and for a moment, they just submit themselves to this feeling of closeness, of the warmth they share, of the rhythmic pounding of their hearts beating in synchrony. It’s almost similar to the feeling Tobio gets whenever he plays with Hinata, a feeling of ‘ _oneness_ ’ that never fade. For three long years, he’s been craving that, but he has no doubt that it’s only a matter of time until he gets to experience that feeling again.

But this, he supposes, isn’t half bad, either. Ah, who is he kidding? This feels _so fucking great_ that Tobio aches at its immensity, and he’s glad he never got to do this with other people because he’s pretty damn sure it would just pale in comparison, and it wouldn’t feel right, not when just holding Hinata in his arms, letting his sweaty, citrusy scent fill Tobio’s senses with psychedelic euphoria, already feels so perfect.

When their cocks glide together, hard and wet and slippery, they both make the same dumb high-pitched groan, and Tobio realizes that he’s wrong.

 _This_. This is perfect.

Hinata is trembling below him, arms circled tight around Tobio, his blunt nails furrowing on Tobio’s skin.

“ _Ahh_ —K-Kageyama, _please_ , just— _hgh_ —“ he whines incoherently, yet somehow Tobio knows exactly what he wants. Or maybe he’s self-projecting; doesn’t really matter, because as soon as Tobio thrusts his hips down, Hinata wails in pleasure, and that is the only indication he needs, and he rocks forward again, rubbing their precum-drenched cocks with a growing sense of desperation.

He doesn’t even realize he started grumbling expletives and vulgarities, and for once, Hinata doesn’t scold him; he just joins him in this chorus of garbled moans and grunts.

“F-fuck— _ah_ —H-Hinata— _Hinata_ —“

“K-Kageyama— _yama_ —keep going— _ahh_ — _hng_ —“

Strong thighs clamp tight around Tobio’s waist, the very same pair that distracted him like crazy all throughout the match. With a tremulous hand, he skims his one hand over it, feeling the bulk of muscles flex and contract, feeling it quiver as their pace becomes more frantic, almost violent. His hand grabs tight onto the thick mass of flesh, the other tucking under Hinata to pull him even closer, needing to feel _more_ , to hear _more_ , to taste _more_.

Their lips meet again, jaw dropping, tongues lapping, breaths mingling, hips still rutting relentlessly, and Tobio gets so lost in it all that for one ephemeral moment, he thinks he must be dreaming, yet another one of those fantasies that plague him on some nights, a sweet torture exploiting his hidden desires and wants. But Hinata’s muffled moans engulfed within Tobio’s mouth, the way he clings to him so desperately, lifting his own hips to meet Tobio’s every thrust, is too seraphic and glorious for his admittedly uncreative mind to conjure on its own.

And those phantasms bring along too many painful memories, of longing and pining for things he thought he’d never get, of trying to stupidly suppress feelings in hopes he’ll forget about them. But he feels none of that now—it’s this reliving glow of ecstasy that threads in his veins, smoothing all the fissures and cracks. It’s plain, simple _happiness_ , and it’s the most real thing Tobio has ever known aside from volleyball.

He holds Hinata even tighter, kissing his cheeks, his nose, the stipple of sweat sliding down the side of his face, and Hinata hiccups and gasps, fingers dragging up and down Tobio’s back, urging him, and Tobio is more than willing to comply. He bucks his hips measuredly, just _so_ , and the tip of his leaking cock catches with Hinata’s.

He _growls_ at the sensation, the heightened friction too mind-numbingly good, and he increases their pace, the bed rocking and thudding on the wall along with their rapid, undulating movements.

Hinata’s stomach is slick with the mixture of their precums, making everything satiny smooth and slippery and so _fucking fantastic_ Tobio is actually scared he’s going insane with the condensed pleasure weaving in every crevice of his being, and the sure, confident thought that Hinata is feeling exactly the same is enough to drive him to the precipice, to jump and surrender, and he has every intention to take Hinata along with him.

“Kage— _Tobio_ — _Tobio_ —“ Hinata gasps and hearing Hinata moan out his name like it’s the only word he’s capable of uttering at the moment is the final finishing blow.

With a full-body shudder that shatters every conscious thought, Tobio’s cock pulses with intense heat, and he spills over Hinata’s, so forceful that he spasms uncontrollably, and not a second too soon and Hinata follows, cock spurting and coating them both.

Both of their bodies shake in tandem, holding, grasping each other as shocks of pleasure and ecstacy jump and spark between them. Their mouths find the other, swallowing choked sobs and desperate groans, riding the exhilarating bliss as long as possible, falling deeper and deeper until Tobio can’t discern whether he’s descending or he’s actually flying.

A hand winds tight on his hair, tugging him close, and Hinata runs his nose along the curve of Tobio’s jaw, warm breath billowing in Tobio’s skin, before whispering, “ _I love you_ ,” and Tobio decides that he’s neither falling nor flying.

He’s exactly where he wants to be.

* * *

Tobio wakes with his head pounding, limbs aching like he’s run a marathon, and a hefty weight on his middle stifling the air on his lungs.

“Morning!” Hinata chirps, smiling brighter than the streak of sunlight beaming through the windows. He looks softly ruffled with his hair tousled more than usual, eyes crinkling, sparkling even, as he grins down at Tobio.

He’s so damn beautiful that it kind of pisses Tobio off, but in a weird, giddy kind of way—if that even makes sense.

“Get off, you’re heavy,” Tobio says, his voice a little gruff with the remaining granules of sleep, but he does nothing to actually push Hinata off him. On the contrary, his hands slide up on the firm thighs bordering his sides, palms running up and down the taut muscle.

Hinata blows out an indignant huff of breath and pouts. “You’re bad at this.”

“At what?” Tobio answers absent-mindedly, all his attention focused on caressing Hinata’s smooth skin, fingers gliding up to lightly grip his sides.

“At being my boyfriend.”

Tobio chokes on his spit. “Your boy— _huh_ —what?!”

“ _Boyfriend_ , stupid,” Hinata says, enunciating every syllable like he’s talking to a toddler. Then the incredulity in his face dissolves, and he starts fiddling his fingers and chews on his lower lip. “That’s...what we are now, right?”

Honestly, Tobio is not so sure, either. They did confess last night and did other... _things_ , and it was utterly _amazing_ , one of the best nights of Tobio’s life, probably, and he’ll unpack and revisit that later—preferably with Hinata.

But he— _they_ —need to sort this out first. This sudden change in the standing of their relationship.

Hinata is many, many things in Tobio’s life. A rival, a friend, a partner. The person who pulled him out of the brink of darkness, the person who pushes him to break past his limits and boundaries. The person he’s in love with for all those reasons and millions more, and he’s not quite sure if the word ' _boyfriend_ 'encompasses what Hinata is to him, or if there even is a word or a designation to what he really is.

He’s just _Hinata_ , stupid, dumbass _Hinata_ , and that, in itself, is in another realm of category, and as infuriating and annoying he is, Tobio wants him, craves him, at an almost same level of longing as he has for volleyball.

It took Tobio almost _six_ years to pull this off, and now that he has him, there's not a snowball's chance in hell he's allowing to let him go. 

“Sure,” Tobio answers eventually after half a second of rumination. “For now.”

Hinata blinks at him, head tilting to the side, a thing he does when he’s confused about something. It’s so disarmingly adorable. “For now?”

“For now,” Tobio confirms before he tugs Hinata down, burying his hand in the mass of orange hair, pinning his head on Tobio’s chest and letting him hear the roaring beats of his heart.

“Because someday I’m going to marry you.” After a short beat of silence, he adds, “I-if you like.”

Words are overrated, and for a person with an endless amount of it streaming from his blabbering mouth, that’s making light of the statement, because the answer pressing soft and tenderly on Tobio’s lips is a loud, resounding ' _yes_.'

And vaguely, Tobio thinks, that’s another win for him.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> The amazingly talented [ringokun](https://twitter.com/ringoismymood?s=09) made [this gorgeous fanart](https://twitter.com/ringoismymood/status/1286361765048197120?s=20) and I have ascended to the highest heavens 😭😭 Go check his other kagehina fanart on his twitter and shower him with the love he deserves 😌✊
> 
> ***
> 
> Have I mentioned that I love how open-ended Sensei weaved the conclusion for the series? It leaves a vast space for the fandom to interpret and create things. Sensei basically handed us a free real estate, like the absolute bad-ass they are T^T
> 
> ***
> 
> I love getting feedbacks, and they motivate me tremendously, so drop them in the comments! Kudos are also appreciated :) Thank you for reading! ♥️
> 
> scream about kagehina or hq in general with me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/artemisia_hq?s=09) or [tumblr](https://artemisia--hq.tumblr.com)
> 
> i have more self-indulgent kagehinas in a mixed bag of fluff, smut, and everything in between [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisia_HQ/works)


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